


Nyctophobia

by aurugentum



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Choking, Dubious Consent, M/M, Psychological Torture, Torture, i wrote this for a friend and i have some regrets but mostly none at all, imagined lover, keith isn't physically there, tease and denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8819017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurugentum/pseuds/aurugentum
Summary: After a hard day, Shiro finds himself alone with a bout of insomnia. The darkness never bothered him, but it’s about to in the least expected way.





	

Rough days come and go, but this one sticks with him like chewing gum on hot cement. He wants to relax and move on, but something in his mind isn't letting him. Aware of the very ominous, hanging fact that if he succeeds in any attempt to sleep now, he's bound to have the inevitable nightmares that plague him under duress. 

What can he do?

With a small sigh, he lays there on his bed for a moment before ultimately deciding to do something, anything that might get him up and out of his head. His paladin armour is shed, leaving the black body suit as he slumps to the floor. Hands glide across the cold surface then push himself up, legs sliding backwards to hold himself in a plank position. He holds it, his body tense under the stress of holding his entire weight for a long time, but he can take it. Until he hears a voice seemingly right behind his ears.

A flinch, and he's on the ground, looking around for a moment as he sees nothing. The position is taken once more as he lowers himself to the ground then back up again, muscles pushing and pulling on his back and arms. It's fine. He tells himself he's fine, it's just stress and continues a set. Then he hears it again.

“Shiro.”

It's quiet, a gentle whisper with the cruellest of intentions. Something about the way it sounds, the way it's said is both familiar and heart stopping but he continues. One more push up, another and then another. He continues onward until he can begin to feel his body tense with use, sweat beading along his skin. A feeling of calm washes over him as the faint onset of fatigue begins and he thinks it's over, he's fine, he can likely sleep after that.

Then again.

“Shiro.” 

It's drawn out this time as though it is taunting him. The Black Paladin tries to ignore it again, play it off as his mind playing tricks on him but it's right in his ear now, and it's loud. He can feel the hot breath on his neck and he jolts, flipping onto his back and activating his arm in a rush. 

No one's there.

A slight relax sets on him, his muscles still tense but beginning to back down as he deactivates. His eyes close and he breathes in deep; he needs to calm himself. He can't think like this.

He doesn't realise it at first, it happens to fast. There's a small noise, shuffling, and as he opens his eyes the world flashes by him until he's glancing upward toward the ceiling and his prosthetic arm is pinned at his side under something heavy. His vision adjusts and he sees himself, looming over him with a cocky grin, foot pressed firmly into his Galra arm as he leans on his knee.

“No!”

Shiro starts to panic, the fear clear in his eyes and he starts to yell for someone but his throat is closed off by a tight, cold hand.

“S..t...op...”

The hand unlatches, barely, enough for the Black Paladin to breathe some but not enough for him to regain himself.

“Now, why would I do that?” Shiro's clone switches out the arm on his throat for his fleshy one, now running his metallic fingers over Shiro's chest and side. “Do you really deserve that?” Fingers dig in now, looking to hurt but more than that they look to rip, tear. A purple flash and the double's arm activates, singeing through Shiro's body suit and marring his skin. 

A short, pained scream leaves the paladin and all his double does is laugh, somehow amused by his pain. Oh, he doesn't want to just hurt him, he's going to break him and he's going to make him fight him.

The glow fades as he slips his hand through the now open hole in the suit, fingers sliding over his stomach and slowly pulling the fabric open with a harsh ripping sound. As fabric is cleared from his flesh, the man's touch becomes much more tender. Shiro groans in a sort of delight as his fingers merely ghost over his skin, cold metal teasing the warm, freshly worked muscles as they trail downward. He hates the noises he makes, noises that betray his distrust of the man who looks like him, noises that only cause bright yellow eyes to glow more fiercely, that grin only becoming sharper as his mirror image gazes into him, hungry.

Shiro lets out a small cough as the other man's hand becomes tighter on his throat for a moment, leaning back to grind himself against Shiro. Cough turns to gasps turns to a small, forced moan that escapes him. Further his noises betray him, and as he rubs gently against him, so does his dick. 

A low chuckle is heard from the clone, eyes narrowing down at the other man. “What's that, Shiro? You like it, don'tcha? Bet you feel real disgusting.” He slides slowly against him again, his free hand travelling up his stomach again to find its place teasing a sensitive nipple. 

“No. I don't!” Shiro's defiant, glaring up at the other but his mouth and body betray him yet again, letting out a low, feral groan at the feeling on his chest. He knows he can't help it, most of him is terrified but part of him is livid, feeling as though he needs to fight and he struggles, but he's pinned in motion again by the other's knees now as he lowers himself closer. 

“What was that? 'Cause all I heard was you moaning.” The clone wants to torment him mentally, break him and make him deceive himself. Really, what fun would there be without that? “Now, when you say you don't, do you mean you don't like it, or don't feel disgusting.” He leans closer to the other man's face. “I think I believe the second one, Shiro.” The name leaves his tongue like its made of acid, and he leans in to tease at the man's lips with his tongue as if it might get the taste off.

And he fights, snapping his teeth at the false paladin even if the motion causes him to choke himself on the hand around his throat. He doesn't care, a part of him needs to fight, the other part is screaming to run but he's trapped.

“Can't even fight yourself, Shiro. You really are useless. Pathetic. You think those other paladins really give a shit about you? Where are they, huh? Not saving your sorry ass.” He begins sliding his hand downward again, this time with the ends of his fingers. “'Cause they don't care. But I do.” As his hand slides gently between the two, he cups Shiro's dick firmly and the man lets out another groan, louder and longer this time. “Tell me you want me, Shiro, and I'll set you free.”

“N-no.” Shiro's response is lower this time, the force behind it dying down quite a bit as the words start to sink in. It isn't true, he has faith in his team, in his friends, but his mind had already been at a low point before this had started. The more he thinks about it, the more a sort of panic sets in and the more he starts believing it. They didn't care. That's why he was here. That's why this was happening. The hand on his cock pulses, tight then loose then tight again in a repetitive motion and Shiro's breathing comes out in breathy pants and short moans.

“C'mon, let's just get this over with.” His hand leaves him for a moment, causing Shiro's body to shudder from the loss. The clone pulls out a bottle of lube, smirking and wiggling it in front of his face. “I'll even be gentle. Or, y'know, as gentle as I can be. But if you're not gonna beg me, I'm not gonna bother with the prep.”

Those words scare Shiro. His mind isn't fully prepared for this, but his body has other ideas, sensitive to touch from lack of gentle hands or prying ones at that. It isn't his fault, though he continues to blame himself and his filthy actions, his dick hardening by the minute. Maybe it's that it's filthy that his body comes to appreciate it more, he doesn't know and it confuses him. What he does know is that he'd much rather be stretched and fucked than fucked dry and left to die inside.

“F-fine! Fine. I...want you.” He finally breathes out, short and to the point but less than sure and forceful and well, that just doesn't do it for the other man on top of him. He's the one in control here, and he'll keep a tight leash, either out of boredom or because he thoroughly and gleefully enjoyed making him say these things.

The clone just leans back gently with a smirk, eyes never unlocking from the other's as he squirts lube on his fingers and begins fingering himself while grinding against the other. “I dunno. Couldn't hear you. Might wanna...speak up louder.” His free hand then goes back to the man's throat as if trying to put pressure against him and against what he was even asking for. 

It works. Shiro has a hard time speaking louder, attempting to repeat himself through strangulation but he cuts off every time until the hand eases up and the force of his newly found breath causes him to blurt the words out. “I want you!” It's enough to embarrass him, cheeks tingeing a slight red as he bites down on his bottom lip. “Please.”

Oh, but his mirror image is going to take his sweet time, enjoying the feeling of his own fingers sliding and spreading himself, his dick hard against the other man's. He just lets out a low, sensual laugh at the other's expense, the embarrassment of the situation fully sinking in. “Good boy. Guess you'd never get this kind of love if it wasn't from yourself, right?”

After a good moment he pulls his fingers out, satisfied with how much he'd done there, and leans closer to the other man as he slicks his dick with lube. “Who would want such a broken man, after all? Look at you, begging so loudly for my fuckin' cock. Guess what, slut? You're not getting it.” And he'd deny him that, lifting at his knees and lowering himself downward onto him with a hand firmly at Shiro's base.

Shiro's breath hitches in his throat as the other man anchors and holds himself by nothing more than his dick and his throat, soft moans escaping through gasps for air until the he has lowered himself completely down on him. The tight feeling alone is enough to send his body shuddering gently, his hips moving ever so slightly upward. He hates the way his body reacts but he can't do much about it though the closeness is something he craves, something he's missed and enjoys but not with who it is. 

The hand holding his throat is freed and air rushes in suddenly and he chokes on it and whether on purpose or by accident, Kuro's knee moves away from his arm for a split second. As Shiro can move now, he reels back slightly before throwing his fist into the other man's face, metal connecting harshly with his jaw. His head falls to the side as a small string of blood slips down his chin but he makes no noise and no motion. Instead, he smiles before snapping his head back up in a sickly fashion, disjointed and unnerving. 

It's a mistake, Shiro knows that almost immediately. It's what he wants, he wants a fight because clearly he seems quite satisfied with the hit. He knows he can't fight back now, it doesn't change anything but it gives him pleasure and he's going to be strictly stubborn about not pleasing his alter. He feels the revenge coming, however, as the two lock eyes for a long moment before Kuro decides it's high time to knock his teeth in. Shiro grits his teeth for the impact but it's enough to turn his head and the pain is still real. This was all real. He needed a different approach, one that wouldn't get him killed here because he knows this man will kill him. He fears him, ever since he first encountered him.

It's then, filled with energy from both receiving and delivering pain that Kuro begins to move on him. He starts slow, teasing both of them as he moves himself up and down. “Ask for more.” It's a statement but the way he issues it comes forceful, an immediate order and Shiro thinks about complying. 

He sets his own scene in his mind, trying to calm himself and make the situation less dire inside. It's the only way he can think of to fully enjoy what's happening. So he pictures Keith, his slender but muscular body astride his lap and holding firm to his dick, head tilted back in pleasure and Shiro moans outward, louder this time, at the image of it all. “Please. Keith. I want more.” He doesn't mean to say his name, but he does and it elicits laughter from the other man, an edge to the tone as if he's bitter.

“Keith? Really? You think he'd ever love you? After you left him alone with no one. I bet he blames you. He won't say it, but I bet he hates you inside every single day for hurting him like that. You abandoned him. We both know it, Shiro. But if that's really what you want...” He slides up only to slam back down on him, letting out his own pleasured moan now as he begins to work him hard. His hand, still slick with lube reaching backwards, his body leaning as he shoves his fingers inside Shiro.

Shiro moves his hips in rhythm with the other, and against his hand, uttering Keith's name between moans. He's going to be stubborn, he'll never give the other the satisfaction of calling out for him or even acknowledging that it's him doing that. Besides, he's not about to call out his own name. He keeps imagining Keith instead, cheeks flushed and hair stuck to his face with sweat as he moans out Shiro's name in a long, drawn out way. He imagines they way the smaller man's hand trails down his own body and to his own dick, stroking it as the older man pounds into him with his hips.

“Mm, I'm gonna—”

“Gonna what? Cum?” He's cut off by the sound of his own voice and his image of Keith vanishes as quickly as it had appeared. “I don't fucking think so, Princess. I'm not done with you.” The clone bears down on his cock for a moment, teasing him as he moves very slowly again before pulling himself completely off of him. 

It leaves Shiro wanting, ready for release but not able and it causes a small, needy whine to leave the man as he looks up. He isn't sure what the other man is thinking of doing, so he moves his hand toward his dick, ready to stroke himself to completion but it's slapped away harshly. 

Kuro moves away from him, leaving Shiro lonely for a moment before his legs are lifted at the knees and he's inserted himself between his legs. “Now, I'm gonna fuck you.” He grins, sharp and prideful of what he's accomplishing here, whether Shiro wants to image him or someone else. He knows this will stay with him for a while because he knows who it really was that was fucking him.

Shiro's body is sensitive, having been stimulated to the point of climax and then being denied. His cock twitches in want, his face clouded by pleasure as he begins imagining Keith there again, the younger man holding onto his legs and teasing close to his hole.”Please...Keith.”

With a somewhat annoyed sigh, Kuro grabs his cock, inserting it slowly at first into the other man, but he doesn't like waiting and he doesn't care for either of their pain thresholds so he shoves himself in all at once, slick with pre-cum and not much else. He's a fan of it, really, the feeling of tightness on him so much that it's vaguely painful. He doesn't wait, doesn't let him get settled with the very full feeling of a dick up his ass and he begins moving, violently. If he wants to imagine Keith, he can do it while getting fucked so hard he screams. He can imagine him clawing at his skin and breaking him, that's fine by him. His hand grips Shiro's side as he fucks him deep, fingers digging into his flesh so hard it draws blood and forces out a scream that's so mixed with pain and pleasure that it just makes Kuro that much more excited.

Still, Shiro imagines Keith having his way with him, his cock thrusting deep inside him over and over in an attempt to make him sick with pleasure. It's a strong imagination, his mind getting lost in that rather than what was actually happening and he's immensely pleased with it, even through the rough handling of him. If it's Keith, it's fine, he knows he wouldn't hurt him out of malice, he trusts him fully and wholeheartedly with his life and with his body so he gives himself fully and deeply to this image of Keith.

Their bodies crash against each other in a torrid sea of feeling until he feels as though he's going to break both mentally and physically. The voice pulls through again, shaking his mental image. “You better fucking cum, slut.” Shiro's stubborn again and bears down on him, pulling his hips upward then down again on the other man's cock, shouting out Keith's name now as though there was never any doubt that the other wasn't him and hadn't been him the entire time.

A hand reaches for Shiro's neck again, pressing in hard as he slams into him, his body shakes with pleasure as he hears the choked moans from his counterpart and the pair lose themselves in both their fantasies as in one unified motion they finally release. Shiro shudders, letting out a long moan of Keith's name as he feels the hot, sticky liquid fill him inside and his own cum showers his stomach.

Shiro isn't able to do much, he can't fight now that his body is so thoroughly exhausted. He just collapses to the floor as the other man pulls out with an evil chuckle. He's amused, pleased, but Shiro knows he hasn't fully pleasured him, he didn't give him all that he wanted so he feels slightly better. Though now he's finally ready to drift into sleep, his eyelids heavy as the image of bright, yellow eyes peering down at him fades into Keith smiling at him, comforting him until it all turns to darkness as he's out.

He'll deal with the aftermath when he wakes up.

For now, he'll dream of Keith.


End file.
